Let Go
by Gamma Orionis
Summary: Rosmerta worries about Kingsley - she thinks he's too tense. Written for HedwigBlack and for Week 1 of 52 Weeks of Writing.


Author's Notes: Written as a gift for HedwigBlack, who requested Kingsley/Rosmerta, and I quote, "sexy goodness". I hope you like it!

Also written for Week 1 of AlwaysPadfoot's 52 Weeks of Writing Challenge on the HPFC forum with the prompt "drunk".

Enjoy!

)O(

Rosmerta worried about Kingsley sometimes. She worried when she saw him sitting in the corner booth of the Three Broomsticks, all alone, for hours on end, nursing the same drink. She thought that his face looked drawn and tense even when he smiled at her, and she worried that someday, the tension would become too much for him and he would snap.

_Being an Auror must have been so difficult for him_.

Rosmerta had met Kingsley first when he was just training to become an Auror, and she was working at the Three Broomsticks in the evenings. He would come in at night with books and parchment and order a drink and then bend over them and study until sunrise.

Rosmerta had thought his dedication charming then.

But now, now that he was no longer just an Auror in training, now that he was out in the real world and rising quickly in the Ministry's ranks, she could not help but fear that he was allowing his obsessions to overtake him.

She sat down at his side one evening, leaning over to see what he was writing. He had a page of notes in meticulously tiny handwriting, and he startled when her hand brushed against his.

"Working again?" she asked.

He looked up at her with bleary eyes. "Yes. I have to finish…" His voice trailed off, and she could hear the slurring in his words.

"You're drunk, Kingsley," she murmured. She could smell Firewhiskey on his breath, but it wasn't a disagreeable smell. She was used to it, after all. Working at a pub meant that one needed to get used to it.

"I know."

She plucked his quill gently from his fingers and laid it aside. "You're here far too late, far too often. You ought to be going home, you know."

"Can't…" He looked around the empty pub, his head moving slowly, as if it took a great effort to turn it. "And I prefer it here. Aren't I welcome here, Rosmerta?"

She softened and clasped one hand around his. "Of course you are. It's just–"

Kingsley cut her off by pressing a kiss against her lips.

Rosmerta's eyes widened and one hand flew to his shoulder to push him back reactively, but then she stilled it. His hand had pressed against her waist, pulling her against him.

"I am so… grateful to you… Rosmerta," he mumbled. His words were half-formed but she could make them out, and she could tell his meaning even more clearly by the urgency of his embrace. "You've been so thoughtful towards me- so helpful… always…"

"You really should go home…" she whispered, but he wasn't listening and she was hardly paying attention to herself either. A breathy sigh escaped her lips when he took her by her hips and pulled her astride him.

"Has anyone ever told you you're beautiful?" Kingsley broke the kiss and tipped his head back to look at her. His hand travelled slowly up her calf, beneath her skirt. "I always thought you were… never had the chance to think much about it, but every time I saw you…" His fingers were on her thigh now and she shivered with anticipation, then glanced nervously at the door.

"If someone comes in–"

"Damn them if they do." He pulled her flat against him, her breasts pressed against the muscles of his chest, and his hand moved between her thighs. "But no one ever comes in at this hour… no one but me."

"No one but you," Rosmerta echoed. She pulled at his robes, searching blindly for the fastenings while she kissed him over and over, feeling his lips – _so firm, and with the taste of the Firewhiskey still on them_ – working against hers. There was an insistent ache between her thighs and when Kingsley's palm pressed against her, she didn't even try to restrain her moan.

"_Now_, Rosmerta," he whispered, half commanding, half begging, and Rosmerta needed no encouragement. She pulled back just long enough to undo his robes and she watched his eyes cloud with pleasure when she took him in her hand. She ran her fingers along the length slowly, teasingly, enjoying every flicker of emotion that ran across his features. His muscles tensed visibly as she ran her thumb slowly across the head.

"Don't… tease…"

"I'm not teasing," breathed Rosmerta, right before she sank down on him.

It had been a long time since Rosmerta had had anyone – she liked the single life, preferred it over romance in most ways – but the feeling of Kingsley inside her, _filling her_, reminded her of everything she had ever loved about romance. She rocked against him, head thrown back while she gasped for air, and she could hear him moaning.

"Faster," he hissed. His hands clawed at her back, fingers digging into her, and Rosmerta sped her pace, rocking her hips firmly against him. His jaw was clenching and she kissed him hard, working her tongue between his lips.

She could feel him throbbing inside her, feel him approaching the edge quickly, and Rosmerta was only too happy to go on. Watching Kingsley's face as he worked to keep control gave her greater pleasure than anything she had ever done…

"Let go…" she murmured in his ear. "You're always working so hard… let go."

He moaned low in the back of his throat and Rosmerta let out a shuddering sigh. She felt his seed spurt into her, hot and thick and _oh_, so good, and she put her arms around Kingsley as he trembled and then finally relaxed.

"Nice, hmm?" she whispered in his ear. "Nice to give up control sometimes…"

He nodded wordlessly, eyes fluttering shut, and Rosmerta slid off of him and curled on the seat beside him. She rested her head tiredly on his shoulder, running one hand slowly up and down his chest.

"Whenever you're feeling… tense," she breathed. "Just come to me, all right? And I can make you feel better."

)O(

_Fin_


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